City of Thorns
by merick
Summary: Set two years after City of Heavenly Fire, Clary and Jace prepare to take a major step in their relationship just as a new force for evil steps into the tensions that have arisen between the Shadowhunters and Downworlders. Simmering anger rises to assert itself and punish those who tried to vanquish an ancient species.
1. Chapter 1

City of Thorns

Set two years after City of Angels, Clary and Jace prepare to take a major step in their relationship just as a new force for evil steps into the tensions that have arisen between the Shadowhunters and Downworlders. Simmering anger rises to assert itself and punish those who tried to vanquish an ancient species.

My Name is Clary Fray. Well, it used to be Clary Fray. For a while it was Clary Fairchild, and even Clary Morgenstern. (And my personal favorite, Daughter of Valentine – when I wasn't even good enough in the estimation of some folks to have a first name). I understand that it was easier to depersonalize me, it made it easier for them to hate me, and to consider sacrificing me. You may have sorted out that I have had a very interesting life up to this point, and you'd be right. The first fifteen years of it were pretty normal (if you leave out the brainwashing – more about that later), and then it got odd.

You see, I grew up with my Mom, Jocelyn Fray, but it turns out that name was made up (well, borrowed), when she ran away from her old life, to protect me from my father. Mom was, well is, a Shadowhunter. And what is a Shadowhunter you might ask? Well, they aren't superheroes, not really, they're mortal beings, but because they have angelic blood running through their veins they have special powers; and they fight demons. Yup, demons. There are demons all over the earth. Their numbers kind of fluctuate, depending on who might be out there summoning them; and how strong the wards are protecting the earth. Because my Mom is a Shadowhunter that makes me a Shadowhunter too, except that I wasn't aware of that, or any of her real life because she had a Warlock enchant away my memories and my powers when they started to surface. Yes, a Warlock. He's part of a population known as Downworlders: Warlocks, Fairies, Werewolves and Vampires. Everyone else is called a mundane. And that's what I thought I was for my entire life until a saw a Demon, and a pack of Shadowhunters kill him, and my Mom got kidnapped by my real Dad and the spells all started to fall apart. But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

So to try to keep things in some sort of order, my Mom kept the truth of my real life from me, Fairchild was her last name. And it turns out that the only man I ever thought of as a Dad, Luke, was a Werewolf. (Though he started out as a Shadowhunter and got bit and then turned.) I think the only honest, normal person in my life was Simon, my best friend since forever. He got caught up in the chaos that became my life too.

It all came to a head when my real Dad decided that he was going to come back into everyone's life and raise Hell again (and sadly, that really isn't a euphemism). My Dad had experimented on himself, and on his children, injecting demon blood into himself to see if it gave him some control over them, and then feeding demonic blood and angelic blood to my mother while she was pregnant with my brother and with me. I got the better of that deal, getting the angelic blood; not that once I knew where it came from (a captive angel), that I felt really good about myself. That blood gave me special powers, beyond what the average Shadowhunter gets; I can create runes and that's a big deal. All Shadowhunters can use runes; they're angelic symbols that impart powers when drawn on your skin or on other things by way of a stele, like speed, or healing, or silence, all things that help when fighting demons. But there haven't been any new ones since the beginning of the Shadowhunters and the grey book. But me, I can create with new ones, thanks to that extra angelic blood. And they are pretty powerful. They've helped win wars, and they helped me kill my Dad, his name was Valentine Morgenstern. And that's all I'm going to say about that for now. The stories are written down if you care to read them.

Anyways, it doesn't matter about those names. I'm giving all of them up today. Yesterday, you see, was my eighteenth birthday. In the Shadowhunter world that makes you an adult, you can attend Council meetings, you can vote, and a bunch of other stuff having to do with fighting, and jobs you can do and choices you can make. So today I'm exerting some control over my life, and I'm taking a new name. Today I am getting married.

I love Jace, Jace Herondale. He, just like me, had a bunch of surnames as he was growing up; Wayland, Lightwood, Morgenstern (the story of that one is far too long to tell here, but rest assured, it is also part of that written history), and finally Herondale, the one he ultimately chose. He offered it to me, almost two years ago, though I think I had known from the first moment I saw him that we were going to be together forever. We kept the secret of it as long as we could, there are still people who don't know what we are about to do, that's mostly due to my fear; fear that the adults in our lives would try to talk us out of it and would be disappointed in our choice. Eighteen is young to get married in the mundane world, but Shadowhunters, we don't have a long life span, so we do things early and we throw our whole heart into those things. Jace has my whole heart, he always has. The fact of that is something we've never really been able to keep from anyone around us; even when we tried to convince ourselves of it. It should be quite the surprise when everyone shows up.

I remember the day, or perhaps more accurately, the night it happened, that Jace asked me, or told me, I suppose, that we were going to get married. My mother had just married Luke. After everything we'd all been through in the months leading up to the wedding we encouraged the two of them to take a real honeymoon; and neither of them seemed inclined to disagree with the idea. Maryse Lightwood was running the New York Institute, and with Alex and Magnus (close by), as well as Jace and Isabelle there it was agreed that I could go and stay in one of the empty guest rooms while they were gone. I spent most of my days there anyways, training and studying to be a real Shadowhunter. I really only spent enough time at home to sleep and change clothes. Any free time I had (as I had left school by that point) was spent grabbing quick coffees with Simon; trying to re-educate him to memories he had given up to save us all. Really, it was a convenience to me to have to stay there. At least that was the argument I used with my mom, and she agreed, though I suspect Luke might have had something to do with her acquiescence.

Jace and I had been training in one of the large rooms of the Institute, one we frequently used as he tried to catch me up to all the lessons I had missed when I had been living as a mundane. We leapt from rafter beams to ropes and platforms, honing agility that was as easy as breathing to Jace. He was serious when he taught me, and easy as it would have been to fall into embraces and kisses, something we both wanted, we concentrated and focused on the work during that time we had alone. Not that we hadn't had enough real world experience with fighting, but even after a few months of relative calm a Shadowhunter could never let their guard down. Doing that would put not only your life at risk but also those of your teammates. And I did not intend to make myself a liability to Jace or Isabelle or Alex; so I worked till every muscle screamed at me to stop, and then I worked past it. Jace's ease with the exercises was infuriating some days, how he never seemed to tire, how he barely ever even breathed heavily. But it motivated me. I was still willing to keep going when Jace put an end to the training for that day, calling me back down to him from my perch above, with a cry of 'I'm hungry, let's call it'.

That was Jace, living in the moment, ruled by the emotions that came to him nearly instantly; be they anger, hatred, passion or even hunger. I loved him for it. Dropping to the ground in a crouch as he had taught me I looked up into his sparkling golden eyes, smiling, taking strength from them, and then stood to face him.

"You did really well today Clary." He told me, returning my smile with a beaming one of his own. "We should go down and meet everyone for dinner."

"I need to wash up first." I looked at my hands, red and thin looking and ran them over my damp hair, tied back in a ponytail; as was the only practical thing for training in. I still hadn't gotten the hang of the tight knots Isabelle was able to twist her hair into when she trained and hunted. Ponys would have to do for me for now.

"You're always beautiful to me." He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled my body against his. That was also the way he was: tactile. He needed to touch to be in contact with other people; me especially. I liked to think that somehow it grounded him and gave him peace, seeing as the man who raised him showed him no affection in that way. Starved for it until he was ten years old, it had taken Jace a long time to open up to his adoptive family; the Lightwoods, and to accept affections from them and others, in any way but a selfish one. (I know that probably doesn't make a lot of sense, it's hard to explain really. Jace had been physical with other people; girls, before me, but that closeness hadn't been about love, it had been about ego and an act, and a momentary distraction from the demons that had settled into his mind, introduced there by Valentine.) He had told me once that he needed to see himself through my eyes, to have that vision to craft himself into, that was at a very low point in his life, when he hadn't seem to know who or what he was supposed to be. With me, with his parabati Alex, with Isabelle and even Maryse to some extend, that physical closeness was about love. And I didn't mind that need of his to be close; in fact it complimented my own needs just as well. I accepted every kiss he offered, even if I did feel a little grimy in my own skin then. It was easy to forget about it when he took my mouth with the hard passion he always had.

"Twenty minutes, I just need twenty minutes to clean up," I told him after he had walked me to my door. "And I'll meet you downstairs in the kitchen."

He nodded, taking another quick kiss from me in the hall. We tried to keep the PDA's to a minimum. I know that my Mom had likely asked Maryse to keep an eye on the two of us. Despite everything she still didn't trust Jace completely (at least around me) the stigma of his having been corrupted by my real brother Jonathan (more rightly known as Sebastian) still hung around her, and so many other Shadowhunters like a dense fog. It was one source of real contention between us; since she had no idea of all the things Jace had sacrificed, and offered to sacrifice to save not only me but our whole world from that evil Valentine had unleashed.

"I'll see you in twenty minutes then." He whispered to me as he nipped at my ear before running off to his own room, presumably, to get himself tidied up.

Somehow I managed to get my door opened, and then closed behind me again without losing all control and tearing after him. I shed the clothes I had been wearing for training, black yoga pants and a tank top, and tossed them in the laundry basket and started up the shower, looking forward to the hot water to soothe those muscles, whose briefly forgotten ache was starting to return. Standing under the spray I willed everything to relax, which took a great deal more effort than you might think, since Jace just seemed to raise a tension in me that wasn't easily dispelled. I let the water run over my head in a sheet, plastering my red hair (now unbound by the elastic) over my shoulders and down my back. I closed my eyes as steam filled the room and just listened to my heartbeat.

"Clary?" I hardly thought the sound of my name was real, just my imagination I assumed as I opened my eyes and turned towards it.

"Jace?" I answered, just a little confused.

A hand parted the shower curtain around the tub and the stainless steel rings pealed against the rod in an odd sort of musical tone as he stepped into the spray with me.

"I couldn't wait twenty minutes." He said.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry for my misquote in my previous chapter; Of course the book I meant to refer to was City of Heavenly Fire. Mea Culpa. I will be more careful in the future.

Onwards we go then; the proposal.

Chapter Two

It wasn't that I'd never seen Jace without his clothes on before; in fact I saw him without a shirt quite a bit as he did his weight training, and there was certainly no shyness between us, not any longer. I had grown accustomed to the rune scars that twined up his arms and across his chest and shoulders. They had become an exquisite painting of who he was, and what he had overcome to survive; even the horrible scar over his heart, which had begun to fade just a little. He'd have it forever, the place where Sebastian had enslaved him. I had never asked how it made him feel, having to look at it. He'd tell me when he was ready, if he was ever ready. I suppose it said something about him and how he was coping, that he never made an attempt to disguise it. It was his scarlet letter, or badge of honor perhaps? But I wasn't concentrating on that just then, it had been awhile since we had been so intimate, and he did look so amazingly good with the mist beading over his chest, accentuating the shadows of his defined musculature. And oh God, it was well-defined musculature. I probably gasped just a little, but I hoped the noise had been lost in the sound of the water pounding against the porcelain of the tub. There was no disguising the pounding of my heart however as he looked at me, almost as if he was asking permission to approach; which of course, he never had to do with me. His expression wasn't neutral, nor was it colored by desperate passions; even if his heart was. It was soft, and thoughtful, lips just parted, chest rising and falling slowly as he stared at me.

"I have missed you so much." He whispered.

"I missed you too."

That was all he needed, taking the two steps between us he pulled me against his body once again, this time nothing between us but water. His arms twisted around my shoulders, hands cupping my neck as he guided my face upwards and brought his own down to meet me, pressing his lips against mine as he tightened his grasp. I had, have, never felt so safe as when he holds me in that way. I can feel the power that hides underneath his skin when I touch him, and kiss him, and taste him as he tastes me when our lips are parted and out tongues dance together. It's like an infusion of energy, a thousand times better than a shot of caffeine because it makes you weak in the knees at the same time as it makes you feel alive. And I gave passions as well as Jace did. I tangled my own fingers into his blond hair, clutching at his upper body with my arms as I did, making sure he wouldn't even think about pulling away from me.

It had been too long.

Even with the difference in our heights our bodies seemed to fit together, standing up, and lying beside each other. And we were quickly moving towards the horizontal portion of the program. Reaching around me Jace shut off the water, then stepped backwards over the edge of the tub, wrapping himself in a large white towel, knotting it over his hips before pulling one out for me, and beckoning me towards its warmth and comfort. He used the edges to pat my hair dry and his careful hands to twist it over my body before he swept me up into his arms and headed back towards the bedroom.

I couldn't do anything but stare into his face as he laid me back on the bed and unfolded the towel that had been covering me. Without looking at himself his own towel was discarded to the floor. (That was unusual for Jace; he kept everything in his room neat, fastidiously neat. Even the clothes he had obviously worn over to my room were folded and placed over the trunk at the end of my bed.) The thought of it only stuck in my brain for a fleeting moment as he laid himself overtop of me, and just let his weight press my body into the soft of the duvet. I held my breath and just 'felt'. Everywhere his skin touched mine I sensed the electricity of us being together, and that was even before he began kissing me again. Jace was really good at kissing. If that was all we ever did I could have died happy; but of course it wasn't, and happy doesn't even begin to describe the rest of it.

Balancing on one forearm he stroked his other hand up my thigh, over my belly and across my breasts, his head bent so that his blond hair fell over his face and just touched my skin, his chest heaving with a practiced control well suited to fighting and love-making. He was far more in control than I was. My hands clutched at his back, pulling him closer to me, my hips arched to press against his, body aching to feel as much of him as I could. Thankfully he didn't laugh at my desperate insistence but instead brought his mouth down to nip at my neck, warm breath raising gooseflesh and pulling moans from deep within my chest. His torture was slowly (deliciously slowly) driving me crazy. Jace seemed to understand this; he could read me so well. Leaving his caresses behind he retrieved a foil packet from the bedside table; where I can only assume he had placed it when he walked in, he showed it to me with a simple smile.

"Yes." I whispered, not finding the strength or presence of mind to formulate a better response. It seemed to do the trick however. His smile broadened, and he turned away from me for a moment to cover himself. When I next felt his touch it was his warm hands along my inner thighs, coaxing me to relax for him. By that time I had closed my eyes, unable to focus both on sight and touch at the same time. Strong muscles banding his legs pressed against me, their weight making me shudder with anticipation. So muchtaller than I, I don't know quite how he managed it, but he kissed me deeply while at the same time sliding himself within me, pulling the cry that escaped from my mouth at his girth within his own chest where it joined the rumble of his satisfaction. Gently, carefully he drove himself forward and then rocked backwards, over and over as I felt my own body tense for him and around him. I nearly felt as if I couldn't breathe, so hard it became to drawn breaths in the midst of what was building. I clung to him, palms pressed to his back, pelvis arched to him, heart pounding in time with his. I could feel the tension in his fists as he curled them around the bedclothes beneath us, as the taut cords ran up his arms and his head fell backwards.

"I love you Clary." He gasped, leaving me no time to reply as he released himself to me, and I did the same for him.

He fell to the mattress, pulling my body to his side as he did so that he would not crush me, and I tucked my head against his still heaving chest, feeling his arm wrap around me, pulling me even closer. Resting his face against the top of my head, I could feel the warmth of his breath and the tiny kisses he laid there. We lay like that, breathing slowly, letting the wave wash over our skin for a good many minutes, eyes closed, just enjoying the fact that we were together. When my breathing finally began to settle I let my free hand move from where it had been resting atop my chest to his hip, from whence I let my fingers explore the channels there, his pleasure at the touch displayed by the soft moans and drawn out sighs that slipped from between his lips. Only when those fingers began to caress towards more sensitive places did he speak.

"Oh Clary," A deep breath. "I don't want you to stop, but if you keep going I don't know if I'll be able to control myself. I only brought one." He stuttered and stopped speaking as I reached my ultimate destination and drew my hand lightly over the length of him. Whether it was under conscious control or not he pushed his hips closer to my hand, urging me to continue in defiance of what he had just begged me to stop.

"In the bedside table." I whispered as my confidence enabled me to stroke him a little more firmly. He had not been the only one hoping that we would be able to eek out some time to ourselves somehow. I could feel the broad grin that graced his beautiful face, still pressed to my skin.

"You are amazing." He replied, reaching over me to retrieve the box. "I'm going to marry you you know, the day you turn eighteen. No, wait, the day after you turn eighteen because you deserve two parties and I don't want to spoil your birthday one." He began to laugh.

"You know," I countered, "If you intend to marry me, don't you think you had better ask me first? I might not accept after all." I let myself join in the lightness of his laughter.

"Quite right." He put a very serious pout on his lips and pursed them together even as his eyes continued to gleam at me. And flinging himself nearly off the bed he got down on one knee beside me, grabbed up my hand in the most ridiculous flourish and brought it to his chest.

"Clary Fray," He began, "Would you make me the happiest man on earth by agreeing to be my wife." I couldn't see how he had even got the words out and kept a straight face at the same time. I made a show of looking him over; and seeing as how we were both still naked, I paused at a few places, as if evaluating him. Then I bit my lip and looked right into those eyes that had caught me at the very first sight I'd had of him, back in the club. My body trembled at the very depth of them and I paused.

"Are you serious Jace?" I whispered. I watched him take a few breaths.

"I am." He nodded, matching my whisper.

"Then yes Jace, yes, I'll marry you."

He had me swept up in his arms again so quickly I felt dizzy; but it was a blissful lightheadedness that I would not have traded for anything else just then. I knew what love was, and relief, and passion, but that, that was pure happiness, and it was the best feeling in the world.

We missed dinner, but that was okay, Isabelle was trying out a new chili recipe, and the leftover pizza was just fine a few hours later.


	3. Chapter 3

I am so sorry for the delay it publishing this chapter; RL got very heavy all of a sudden.

Chapter 3

_Black for hunting through the night_

_For death and mourning the color's white_

_Gold for a bride in her wedding gown_

_And red to call enchantment down._

_White silk when our bodies burn,_

_Blue banners when the lost return._

_Flame for the birth of a Nephilim,_

_And to wash away our sins._

_Gray for knowledge best untold,_

_Bone for those who don't grow old._

_Saffron lights the victory march,_

_Green will mend our broken hearts._

_Silver for the demon towers,_

_And bronze to summon wicked powers._

_— __Shadowhunter children's rhyme_

I couldn't tell my Mom. I wanted to be able to, to tell her and Luke that Jace and I wanted to get married. But I knew that I couldn't, knew that she would take the almost year and a half till I turned eighteen to try to dissuade me, to try to turn my mind against Jace. I tried to understand where her concerns came from, tried to untangle why she still distrusted him even after he'd offered his life to save the whole world, and to save me. Yes, he'd had his mind enslaved by my real brother, Jonathan, Sebastian, the Clave seemed to prefer to use the later name; perhaps it simply seemed more sinister to them? But it hadn't really been Jace who'd done all those terrible things, his body perhaps, but not his mind, not his soul.

Jace still agonized over all the things he had been made to do; his own punishment was far worse than what the Clave might have meted out. But unfortunately there was still the punishment my mother seemed unable to purge from her soul. Even Luke had forgiven him (not that there was truly anything to forgive – as far as I saw it), but not her. Since I wasn't eighteen yet she could have separated us completely, sending me away and I'd have had little recourse. Of course Jace would have followed me, likely against the rules, which really would have earned him a harsh reprisal. They could have expelled him from the academy, or even stripped him of his runes: The Clave's recent decisions concerning others who had committed no crime except the happenstance of their bloodlines had been incredibly severe. You can see why I had to keep it all a secret. So I begged Jace not to tell anyone for as long as we could keep it a secret. He really didn't mind; not that it kept him from making little innuendoes periodically just to tease me, and to check if I still had his Herondale family ring. As frightened as I was to wear it for fear of being discovered, I had to have it with me and had suspended it on a long chain, and kept it tucked against my chest wherever I was. It was an important part of being engaged to a Shadowhunter I had discovered. I would return it to him on the day of our wedding.

Eventually though we had to tell someone. It was Jace who told Alex first, asking if his parabati would stand up with him on the day. We knew that it wasn't fair to ask Alex to keep the secret, so we then told Isabelle and Simon and Magnus. Isabelle was upset with me; mostly because, I believe, I had denied her the opportunity to plan a majestic party, and left her precious little time to get me kitted out as was required for a Shadowhunter wedding. She didn't talk to me for nearly five minutes as we tried to explain ourselves; then she gave up being angry and started planning for my gold wedding dress and how she was going to do my hair.

Obviously we weren't going to be getting married in the Citadel in Alicante. There would be no way of getting my Mom and Luke there, to say nothing of our co-conspirators without having to answer too many questions; and without announcing our intentions to The Clave and the officiates who would be required for the ceremony. Instead, it seemed easier to just hold the ceremony in the church that fronted the New York Institute, and even easier when Magnus declared that he could and would perform the ceremony for us. After that Isabelle just sort of took over, planning my cover story for staying at the institute after my birthday party, and for how she was going to get me a wedding dress without her mother, and my mother finding out. I was quite thankful for all her help, and for the first time in months, my heartache eased a little, with the secret being shared.

At least it eased for a little while.

My birthday party, which should have been a joyous affair, was for me at least, full of tension. I even saw some of it in Jace, I think Alex did too, but he was quite good at hiding his emotions from most everyone but us. He was subdued, likely because of the presence of my Mom and Maryse; neither of whom were his favorite people; both having rejected him at vulnerable times in his life. His eighteenth birthday party, without the other adults present at his request (excepting Magnus and Alex of course) had been a joyous event with good food, and cake and even some smuggled champagne. We'd gone to the ruins of his family property and as an adult he had immediately commissioned to have it rebuilt. That act had brought true happiness; I could see it in his glistening golden eyes and wry smile. He had been planning to rebuild the Herondale Hall since he had embraced his family. And he was creating it for us.

But I'm getting everything all out of order now, aren't I?

Isabelle had books full of pictures of wedding gowns, all of which seemed far too extravagant for my taste. Besides, I reasoned with her, it wasn't as if either of us could just pop over to Idris and stroll into a shop in Alicante to try such things on. Both of us were still far too well known there to disguise such an attempt. No, it seemed much easier to head into SoHo and buy something off the rack and smuggle it back to the Institute. Disappointed as she was, she saw the sense in it and accompanied me for an afternoon. Not being much of a shopper myself, I was happy to settle on the first gold-colored dress I tried on, but Isabelle insisted that I try on several, and as she was the best judge of what most closely resembled a Shadowhunter Wedding Gown, I gave in. I also gave in because I thought that I should give that to Jace; that he deserved to be a part of that ceremony and that rite. We would never have the wedding in the Citadel that he should have had, as a hero, as a powerful Shadowhunter who should have been admired by his people. He, just as I, would always carry the stigma of Valentine Morgenstern and Sebastian, his true son. It would limit everything he did to an even greater degree than it would me. As time passed I could possibly escape it, as my mother's daughter, not having been raised by Valentine; Jace would never be free of the stares; or worse, the downcast eyes. It wouldn't matter if he saved the world once a week for the rest of his life. But despite the attitudes of others he would never give up being a Shadowhunter, and so he had stayed at the Institute, stayed with me, had never given up his runes, and was now rebuilding a home for us so that we could make our own way; away from others should we desire it, but close enough to answer any call.

But look, I've gotten distracted again.

Isabelle found the dress. It was way more than I would have ever chosen for myself, but I have to admit, when I tried it on and the saleslady 'wowed' me, and the mirror did the same that I fell in love with it. The skirt was full length (which I never would have tried but for Isabelle) and thickly pleated, the folds of which carried up to the bodice. The bodice was laced up the back with a thick golden ribbon. Fastened around the neck and embellished around the waist with overlaid leaves of the same golden fabric it made me feel like a princess; like a real fairytale (and not the kind I'd heard about from the Shadowhunters – the children's stories, with the happily ever after endings.) I wasn't the kind of girl to normally get swept up in all that fussiness, but I did. It was more money than I had, but Isabelle produced a credit card that took care of everything and insisted on doing it when I tried to object. I got to buy lunch at least.

Isabelle called Alex before we arrived with the dress bag, just to ensure that we could get it in and up to her room without being seen. Once there it was easily hidden away in her massive closet. It was almost sad to put it away. I was actually excited about wearing it, and hopefully surprising Jace. Not that she needed to, but she swore she wouldn't let Jace near it, and even offered to ward it. I didn't think it would come to that. I didn't know how I was going to be able to sleep well until the whole thing was done, my party, my secret wedding, now it was real.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I won't bore you with the details of my birthday party; it isn't really what's important to this story anyways. I'll just say that I tried to enjoy myself, and that I smiled at all the right times, and that my Mom wasn't fooled by any of it. She asked me multiple times 'what was wrong' and I kept coming up with excuses. At least I was being quite honest when I told her that I didn't like being the center of attention, and that I was uncomfortable with all the fuss. The way she stared at Jace the whole night was unnerving; as if she suspected something else to happen now that I was eighteen. Of course she didn't know that it had happened over a year and a half earlier. For his part, Jace stayed polite, answering when he was asked questions, not asking any himself (except of me, if I needed a drink or a snack), no PDA's, which I'm certain kept my mother at bay. Only when the grownups (of which I suppose I was one now, but you know what I mean), were abandoned so that we could go out clubbing did I finally relax just a little. And only then, away from their eyes, did I take the Herondale ring off the concealed chain on my neck and finally slip it over the only finger it fit. Jace's smile was, as always, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen as he caught sight of it, coming over to take my hand finally and offer me a lengthy kiss. He was, it seemed, just as anxious as I about the following day, the way he seemed to cling to me, the way we clung together. There wasn't even the relief that we had passed the test of keeping our secret all these months, indeed, it felt just a little worse. Maryse, Robert, Luke and my mom knew that we planned on seeing them all again for brunch the following day; that idea had been Isabelle's. It gave her and Simon time to decorate the church; minimally decorate, first thing in the morning, and gave me time to get into my dress before anyone showed up to ruin the 'surprise'.

I spent the night alone with my anxieties, staring at the dress I had finally been able to uncover, hung over a dressing screen in my room at the Institute. My phone, laid on the bedside table rattled against the wood and I picked it up.

"I love you." The text message read.

"I love you too." I typed back.

"Still time to elope."

"Isabelle will kill us both."

"I think I can take her."

I laughed quietly to myself, envisioning the grin he must have had while writing that.

"I'll see you in the morning." I countered.

"At the altar?"

"Oh yes."

"Dream of me?"

"Always."

Somehow I actually managed to sleep a bit after that. Simon brought me a coffee and a roll in the morning, and as I hadn't had much alcohol the night before, I actually felt pretty decent, at least physically, my mind was turning over in circles and flips like a training routine in the rafters. I could tell he was still uneasy with the whole plan, and with me getting married. Not that he disliked Jace, not that he was in love with me any more, but just because breaking the rules still made him queasy, and this was breaking most every rule from the world we had grown up in.

"Have you thought about what you are going to tell your mother yet Clary?"

"Sort of."

"Which means?"

It meant that I'd played a dozen versions of a conversation over in my head for months, and that I knew that what would end up coming out of my mouth would still end up being gobble-dee-gook.

"I'll manage." I told him, not really believing it.

I was standing in front of the mirror watching Isabelle putting the final touches on my hair when there was a knock on the door. I took a deep breath and held it, knowing exactly whom it was. Izzy half-smiled at me knowing what I did about the visitor, and patted my shoulder before opening the door to my Mom and then slipping out past her. I caught a brief glimpse of confusion on my Mom's face, which quickly melted to shock as took in my dress and understood immediately what was going on.

"Clary? No." Her mouth dropped into a frown and her brows knit together.

I was not going to cry, I was not going to cry I repeated over in my head like a mantra.

"I love him Mom." I squeaked out, feeling every bit the naughty child and not the battle seasoned Shadowhunter adult that I was.

"So much so you would lie to me about something like this?"

"Because I knew how you'd react."

"How I'd react?"

"Yes, badly." I tried to keep my voice steady, even though my heart was pounding in my chest and my hands threatening to begin shaking.

"So my opinion means nothing?" The look in her eyes was just on the calm side of impending fury.

"Don't do this to me Mom." I had to turn away from her to calm myself, so I didn't say anything I was going to regret. "Why can't you just understand?" I asked the floor.

"Understand that you couldn't even tell me you were getting married?"

"Sort of like you not telling me who my real Dad was and that I was a Shadowhunter?" It slipped out.

"I did it to protect you."

"So did I."

She was silent.

"Mom, I love you, I don't want to disappoint you, but I want to be with him, forever. He loves me, I love him, we just want to start our lives together, put the ugliness that Valentine and Sebastian caused behind us finally. Can't you just tell me that I look beautiful, that you are happy for me that I've found someone honest and strong and devoted to me who would die for me?"

"You look beautiful Clary."

She couldn't say anything else, and we stared at each other, me holding back the sob that threatened my carefully applied mascara.

"Will you stay?" I whispered.

She nodded, dabbing at her own eyes. I guess it was the best I was going to get. I didn't see her leave, only Isabelle returning, mostly because she made no secret of it; hoping that I wouldn't be caught off guard if I needed to be alone.

"You okay Clary?" She asked.

"Yeah, that went about as well as I thought it was going to." I took a deep breath. "I suppose your parents know now as well?"

"Probably, but since no one else has stormed up here to stop us I'm going to guess that they are okay with it."

"Or they're just waiting in the church to forbid the whole thing."

"Then we'll just go to Alicante ourselves and do it there."

Practical Isabelle; just what I needed to hear then. I spun Jace's ring on my finger nervously.

"You aren't having second thoughts are you Clary?"

"Not a one." Of that I could assure her. I couldn't assure myself though that someone hadn't been sent to persuade Jace to walk away from this. The second soft knock on the door was quite ill timed to my liking. Once again, Isabelle went to answer it.

"Can I talk to Clary for a minute Isabelle?"

The voice was male, one I had known most all of my childhood, even if I hadn't truly known the nature of the man who possessed it. (Wow, I was not in a generous mood right then at all.)

"Come in Luke." I could see him reflected in the floor length mirror I stood in front of. His face didn't hold the same pursed shock as my Mom's had. In fact he wore a little smile on his.

"Oh Clary," He said, opening his arms to me. "You look so beautiful." I rushed into his embrace.

"Are you happy for me Luke?"

"Of course I am, and your Mom is too, she's just," he paused, "she really is happy, she's just hurt and maybe a little scared about losing you. You have to understand what she's been through."

"But Jace is a good man."

"I know he is Clary. But danger just seems to track him, or maybe the other way 'round." He laughed a little and I felt that strong chest hold me all the tighter. "She just wants to make sure you are safe, that's always been what she's wanted for you."

"I know she didn't want this life for me Luke, but I got pulled into it, and now I have a duty to it. And I really can't imagine doing anything else, with anyone else."

He just nodded. I'm sure he was thinking that I was just as stubborn as my Mom.

"You just about ready Clary?" Isabelle was peeking around the doorframe.

"Yeah, I am." I smiled.

"Mind if I walk you there?" Luke asked. I avoided gushing all over him and nodded with glistening eyes.

And so with the only dad I had ever known I descended in the elevator and walked over to where Jace was standing, waiting for me with Alex and Magnus at the altar. It wasn't a long processional or anything, in fact it was a semi circle, coming out from the elevator, which sat disguised behind the altar in the sacristy, across the west transept and to the sanctuary itself. It didn't matter. None of it mattered. Jace's golden eyes and bright smile were the only things that did. Luke leaned over to give me a gentle kiss on my cheek then he retreated to sit with my Mom.

"Please join hands." Magnus sounded so regal just then, not that he didn't always sound so proper when he spoke; it just seemed even better in the expanse of the church then. Jace grabbed up my hand and squeezed it tightly.

"As your hands are joined, so are your lives. Hands to hold each other, caress each other, support and love each other."

A terrible thud suddenly echoed through the church, originating from the large wooden doors at the very end of the Nave, interrupting Magnus and turning everyone's gaze to the street entrance. The doors swung open and a figure tumbled through to the marble floor, benediction of Raziel dying on his lips.

Oh Hell.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Of course Jace reached the fallen form first, practically vaulting from the small dais we stood upon, and flying down the isle, stele already in his hand, Alex in pursuit. But for the dress I would have been just as fast as the rest of them, but I did make a respectable presence, faster than our guests who barely had time to pivot in their seats before we reached the man.

"What in Heaven?" Isabelle gasped as the full sight of the man was revealed.

I had never seen anything like it, and Magnus' harsh admonishment of, "Don't touch it!" Snapped everyone backwards for a second.

The man, the Shadowhunter who lay awkwardly on his side on the floor of the church was bleeding from a ragged wound in his abdomen, from around a 'spear' of some sort that had been thrust through his body from back to front. It wasn't like any spear I had ever seen before in battle or around the Institute. I also didn't recall Jace mentioning its like before either.

It looked like an artichoke, or a large pinecone at the business end, both it and the green shaft it was affixed to covered in blood and something that resembled ichor. (At least that was the closest substance I could think of, Magnus seemed a little more confident that it wasn't normal.)

"It could be poisoned." He warned.

Not that that warning stopped Jace from doing something and taking charge. With a blade he pulled from his boot, (yes he was armed at our wedding – so was I) he tore the remnants of the man's black leather jacket, exposing his back. I had my stele out and was at his side.

"Clary, do the iratze on his skin, here." He pointed at an unblemished part closest to the spear wound. "You too Alex." We did as he said. The marks disappeared nearly as quickly as we drew them. That did not bode well.

"We need bandages, and we need to get him to the infirmary so we can get this thing out of him."

"On it." Isabelle darted up the aisle to the elevator; I heard it whir to life but did not take my gaze from the man on the floor or my mind from the task of trying to impart my healing energy. We had finally been joined at the doorway by Robert, Maryse, my Mom and Luke; they stood over us, not quite becoming involved except to fret (that was Maryse) and to wonder out loud what had happened, more so when the man began to stir.

"It's all right friend." Jace got low down to the ground, and spoke softly to the man. "You're safe now, you're with friends."

"Friends," the man groaned. "Daniel?"

"Who is Daniel?" Jace asked in the same soft tone.

"Parabati." He moaned, gritting his teeth and wincing his eyes together with a depth of pain that I understood well. The agony of losing one's other half was beyond crippling for a Shadowhunter, sadly, that seemed to be the case there. I drew more and more iratze as each one disappeared, trying to imbue some strength to the man.

Isabelle returned, Simon in tow, handfuls of bandages and a backboard carried between them. Winding the bandages into donut shapes, Jace carefully threaded them onto the spear, packing them against the torn flesh, then securing them with windings around the man's abdomen, placed as gently as possible. Once bound, he and Alex carefully lifted him onto the backboard, still lying on his side, and then hoisted the whole thing. I drew my last iratze and then let the exhaustion of the transference of my strength take me, slumping downwards as well.

"Clary?" I could hear the concern in Jace's voice. I raised my hand and my head to smile at him.

"I'm okay, go." I tried to assure him. Luke was at my side by then, helping me to my feet.

"I've got her Jace, we'll go together." Swung up into his arms as I had been as a child, Luke carried me behind the stretcher to the elevator and the infirmary.

ooOOoo

I was laid down in one of the hospital beds, close to where the others were gathered around the man. I pushed myself to sitting earning a little glare from my mom who seemed upset and angry with me, as if somehow the happenings had all been my fault. I swallowed back that hurt and focused on Jace and the others as Simon, noticing my activity, joined me on the sidelines.

"We need to get this thing out of him." Jace swore, examining the now bloodied bandages that surrounded the shaft of it.

"You shouldn't touch it with your bare hands Jace." Alex was still at his Parabati's side, an equally worried look on his face.

"Someone find me some gloves, something impermeable."

"Like Dragon-skin?" Simon offered. I elbowed him in the ribs.

"Dragons aren't real." I whispered to him. He offered me a shrug and wide-eyed glance. He could be forgiven for not yet having grasped everything that was myth and everything that was truth yet, we has still studying to become a Shadowhunter, and still hadn't faced the blood from the Mortal Cup (but that will be another story unto itself).

If Jace had heard the comment he chose to ignore it. Instead asking for surgical gloves and something to wear over them, like solid leather. Again it was Isabelle who ran to fetch them, she seemed to know where everything was in that place; and perhaps it really was her who had taken over Hodge's role of managing the institute, more than her Mother had. Jace demanded more bandages next; ready to stem the flow of blood once he removed the spear. Those materialized as I swung my legs off of the cot I had been laid upon and forced myself to his side. I knew he would need power to stem the flow of blood once the tamponade was removed. I leaned a little against Jace's shoulder, feeling a little lightheaded at the upright movement. He did not try to order me away, but instead took the stele from my fingers, and used it to trace an iratze on my bare shoulder. As he handed it back to me, he kissed me softly on my cheek and mouthed 'I'm sorry'. I shook my head, it wasn't time to think about ruined ceremonies and blood spattered gowns. Especially as Isabelle reappeared with a box of nitrile gloves and a pair of leather ones that she tossed at Jace.

"Be ready everyone." He said as he covered his hands.

I was kneeling in front of our guest, still at Jace's right side, with Alex on his left holding a wad of bandages. Isabelle and Simon were at the man's back, likewise armed. Magnus had conjured some kind of bin for the disposal of the spear, and stood just behind Jace, ready to receive it and destroy it if necessary. I closed my eyes, not because I was afraid of seeing the expressions of pain, or the unstoppered bleeding, but because I was hoping this was one of those situations where Ithurial, or his blood might grant me some kind of useful rune to stem the flow and somehow knit the tissues once again. Runes don't just come to me on command you see, they have always come in times of greatest need, and I'm not always the one who gets to define what 'greatest need' happens to be. I heard Jace start a countdown.

"Three, Two, One." With my free hand on the chest of the injured Shadowhunter I felt the jerk and heave as Jace yanked the thing free, and heard the thud of it hitting whatever container Magnus had ready. Only then did I see a form begin to materialize behind my eyelids.

The best way I can describe it is a caduceus, the entwined snakes and wings most often associated with the practice of medicine. Of course it had a more rune-like quality, paint strokes instead of the evenly taped serpents and defined feathers. I opened my eyes and began to draw. Jace took a cue from me, and after watching my design, copied it. We all waited, keeping pressure on the wounds, to see what would happen. A long moan and fluttering eyelids told us that something we had done was working.

"Hello friend, I told you you'd be okay." Jace said with a grin as deep green eyes latched onto his.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The man in our infirmary fought against his obvious exhaustion, (and likely poisoning) as best he could, aided by the irazte that we had drawn on his skin, and by the medicines (and magics) that Isabelle and Magnus had brought to him. I believe I had said before that he was a Shadowhunter, like us. I knew this not just because of the rune marks on his skin; exposed where his jacket had been torn, or because of his use of our word, 'Parabati' but because of the bone deep stubbornness to stay conscious when any normal mundane, (and even some Downworlders) would have succumbed to the pain and injury long before.

The adults, (and I say that not to mean us, those who had recently reached that magical Clave milestone of eighteen years of survival, but to reference my Mom, Luke, Robert and Maryse) were standing at the periphery of the tableau the rest of us were creating around or near to the hospital bed where we had arranged our guest, dressings in place, pillows cradling the undoubtedly sore muscles and aching wounds. They had said little, but I knew from experience that they were contemplating a great deal more things behind the wrinkled brows and sharp eyes. I didn't want to have to think about what they were considering, but I knew I'd have to, and I knew that someone would have to take control of the situation soon. No disrespect to my Mom or to Maryse (at least not too much), I was pretty certain it would be Robert (most likely) or Luke (a second choice) who would do those honors. And I kind of had the feeling that both those 'leaderships' might not involve us, the next generation of fighters. I was actually a little surprised that Maryse hadn't summoned the whole of the Clave yet; that was her go-to move. Maybe she wasn't so inclined to do so with Robert's presence, considering his current position?

The room was silent except for the labored breathing of our guest and the clicking of the IV pump that Isabelle had set up to help rehydrate the man. (I suppose you can't hear worries and that wringing hands were also pretty quiet). I broke it. Kneeling down by the man I reached out to touch his shoulder.

"What is your name?" I tried to smile though I wasn't sure how convincing I was; hair pulled askew, hands still a little shaky as I recovered the energies I had spent on him, and face obviously worried and covered with far too much make-up thanks to Isabelle.

"I am called Malakhi." Dark brown eyes focused on mine. Their depth was stunning, just as were those of all Shadowhunters, betraying the depths of evil they had taken in, projected outwards with a haunted gleam that never completely subsided.

"And where have you come from Malakhi?"

"Heidelberg." He whispered to me.

"And what brought you to New York?"

Jace knelt down beside me. Without looking up at them, I could feel the others step in just a little more closely to hear that answer. Generally when Shadowhunters came to a new city they presented themselves to the local Institute; not only for shelter but to convey messages and plans, though certainly not for permission to operate. It was more of a courtesy since we were all on the same team; at least I thought that the New York Institute was still on the same team. Perhaps not? I knew the Clave had meted out harsh punishments after the war, deserved or not. An Institute that housed any Shadowhunter of Morgenstern blood, or acquaintance might just have been set aside, officially or not.

It was a moment before Malakhi answered me. I didn't know if he was just exhausted, or if he was weighing how much he should tell us, the denizen's of the New York Institute. But after all, I reasoned (and perhaps he did too) he had come to us for help, and we had given it, he had to see that we weren't the demons that we might have been made out to be. He obviously judged us positively.

"Someone has been attempting to gain access to the Silent City. We wanted to know if similar incursion attempts were happening here." It was the most he had spoken yet in a single breath, and the energy it obviously took resulted in him closing his eyes, and breathing very slowly for a good few heartbeats. Perhaps he was regretting his decision to be so forthright? I chanced to look up at Robert during the pause; he seemed upset and with good reason though he said nothing.

"Can you tell us what you found?" It seemed I had become the group spokesperson, but I guess I was asking the right questions.

"Nothing seemed out of place. Not until I saw Daniel, who was ahead of me, felled by an arrow." My heart tightened at the mention of the name, the sorrow at the core of the voice that spoke it was palpable. "Before I could reach him I felt the fire through my body."

"Did you see who had done this to you both?" I hated prodding, but I knew that we needed those answers.

"I don't know, I didn't see." He shook his head. "I only saw the spear tip at my chest as I pitched forward."

"Thyrsus." Magnus, who was still present in the room with us, mumbled. I turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised.

"Well that's what it is." He offered in a 'matter of fact, people get impaled in front of me all the time' voice.

"What's a Thyrsus?" It seemed the logical follow up question to his statement.

"Well," he drew out the word in a maddeningly long sigh. "Traditionally, it was a fennel stalk, topped with a pinecone wielded by the followers of Dionysus. But the truth of the matter is, it is a weapon disguised in plant materials with a hidden metal point, coated in poison."

"And you're saying this man ran into a crazed Maenad in the New York City Marble Cemetery who felt the need to stab him?" Jace was a little less polite than I would have been considering the circumstances. He was more angry than concerned about the breach to 'his' peace in New York City. His nature had always been to care for the world and for the truth of his Shadowhunter oath with his every cell. It still was, which is why he took any threat personally, feeling as if he needed to be better, stronger, faster than anyone else; in some part to soothe his ego, and in another to atone for what he had been made to do when in Sebastian's thrall.

"I'm just telling you what it is Jace." Magnus countered. "Isn't it better to have more information than less?"

"Well who else would carry such a weapon then, besides a Maenad or a Satyr, because I don't think we have too many of those wandering around the Marble Cemetery?"

"Best guess?" Magnus asked.

"Sure." Jace nodded harshly, his golden eyes narrowing.

"A fairy."

Am I allowed to say 'bloody hell' again?

ooOOoo

Maryse had gone an odd shade of pale. Robert was cursing under his breath, and Luke had taken hold of my mom, still intent on protecting her no matter what the threat. For my part I felt a frozen wave envelop me at the mention of the possibility. Jace seemed to stiffen up, but more like he was ready to pounce on something than out of fear.

"It can't be Fairies." Maryse managed to squeak out. "They've all been banished to their own world. They can only emerge for Clave meetings."

The Treaty, and I use that word with all the sarcasm it's due, had indeed enclosed the Fairies in their own underground realm, trying to prevent them coming to the world above to reek any further havoc. They were paying the price of their Queen's allegiance to Sebastian. Truthfully, there might have been some sense to the closed borders, it certainly prevented Fairies from being hunted by those Shadowhunters and Downworlders who had lost loved ones in the war. Even two years hadn't dulled that grudge. And I think it had probably only enhanced the bitterness the Fairies felt against the Clave. But why would they be seeking entrance to the Silent City? And why were they on the surface world anyways? And how? There were so many unanswered questions hanging on that pronouncement.

"We have to go to the cemetery." Jace announced, standing up and surveying all of us, his army.

"We do." I joined him, and not just because I loved and supported him. It was the right decision.

"No, we should inform the Clave of what has happened." Maryse, as predicted, backed down in favor of calling in the troops of the empire.

"We don't even know what did happen Maryse." Robert spoke to his wife, likely aware of the possibility of her spiraling into some kind of hysteria. I don't know if Shadowhunters can suffer from PTSD, but she certainly seemed to be suffering thusly. Though I think she should have been more frightened of the Clave.

"A Shadowhunter was attacked Robert, one killed. The Clave needs to be made aware of that."

"Not until we have had a chance to investigate for ourselves Maryse, and ascertain the truth of the matter. No offense against our guest here, but no one saw fit to share this knowledge with us when they had it. We will collect our own evidence first, before involving anyone else. And we must try to retrieve the body of our fallen comrade before it is discovered by a mundane who involves the police."

I felt a great deal of respect for Robert Lightwood at that moment. He had kept his cool, and analyzed the situation, summing it up quite succinctly. He was quite right that we didn't need the NYPD involved in our matters, and that we needed to get ourselves into the fight; to earn back our lost respect. And he was going to let his family do it.

"Are you up to it?" Robert asked Jace.

"Of course." Jace had never looked so proud.

"Then get going, and I will send a message to the Silent Brothers to watch for you, and the body of this man's Parabati."

"But what about the wedding?" Magnus asked.

I looked down at my ruined dress, and at the ring I had switched to my finger from its gold chain, then up at Jace. At almost the same time we said,

"There'll be time later." Both of us spoke with sighs, and the briefest of sad glances.

"I need ten minutes to change." I told him.

"You have five." He told me with a grin.

I took four.


End file.
